


Mistaken Identity

by triste



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Canada supposed he should have known things would turn out like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistaken Identity

Title: Mistaken Identity  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Canada/England  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

It happened very quickly. Canada had been walking down the hallway, minding his own business, when suddenly the door to his left opened and an arm reached out to yank him inside. The door was slammed shut straight after, Canada shoved up against it.

This, he thought dully, was the biggest downside of being related to someone like America, because most people simply couldn’t tell them one from the other. He wondered what he was going to be threatened for this time. He certainly hadn’t done anything to deserve such treatment, at least not that he was aware of.

He was just about to explain that, actually, he wasn’t America at all, so could the nice gentleman please let release him in order to explain the situation in a calm and rational manner before resorting to violence, but then he recognised the face glaring at him.

“England?” he said, taken-aback.

“How much longer were you planning on making me wait?” England hissed.

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t play dumb. You spent that whole meeting feeling me up under the table. Finish what you started, bastard.”

Canada wasn’t following the conversation at all. He really had no idea what England was talking about. He’d never even touched him. Besides, their seats had been on opposite end of the table. Even if he were the type to grope people against their will in public, he hadn’t been anywhere near England to do it.

“I think you’re making a mistake,” Canada said, but his attempt at reasoning was thwarted by England leaning up and kissing him.

Of all the ways of startling someone into speechlessness, that was probably one of the best. England’s body pressed was pressed flush against Canada’s, one hand on his hip, the other curled around his right bicep. His hands, like his kiss, were aggressive and impatient. Canada was left shaken and panting once their lips parted, and he wasn’t the only one. He could feel England’s breath against his neck. It made him shiver.

“Um,” he said. It was the best he could manage after a kiss that intense. “I...”

“Shut up,” England ordered, slipping a leg between Canada’s and grinding against his thigh. He moaned, low and desperate, teeth grazing over Canada’s skin.

Canada cleared his throat and tried to speak. “But I-”

“Just shut up,” England interrupted, snagging one of Canada’s hands and guiding it to his ass. “Stop dawdling.”

Canada’s hand squeezed reflexively. England moaned again. It was different to the noise he’d made before, softer and more approving. He had a very nice ass, Canada conceded, even if he was being rather forward. It would have been better for England to get his consent first before molesting him out of the blue like this, but then he had always been somewhat eccentric. He usually preferred to leave Canada to his own devices, what with America taking up most of his time, so to have England pay attention to him for once, unexpected though it had been, was most appreciated.

Besides, Canada didn’t mind being molested that much, not if it was by England. He was surprised England would be this straightforward and direct about it, considering his typical responses to France’s attempts at anything sexual, which could range anywhere between accusing him of being a shameless pervert and forgoing words altogether by just kicking him in the crotch. It was only natural Canada would find himself getting hard as a result of such stimulation. When England kissed him again, it was hardly unpleasant. If anything, it was even better this time, because it was much slower and sweeter. The little noises England kept making into Canada’s mouth were still insistent, but he was actually giving Canada room to respond now that he’d gotten over his initial shock.

It was kind of enjoyable, Canada thought, as England broke the kiss just enough to catch his lower lip between his teeth and tug. It was better than enjoyable. England wasn’t even glaring at him anymore. He stared up at Canada, eyes half-lidded, mouth swollen, cheeks flushed. Canada didn’t think he’d ever seen anything quite so tempting before. It made him want to kiss England, to steal his breath away, to touch him everywhere his hands could reach.

Before he could even begin to do any of those things, however, England backed away. “Come on,” he said, taking the hand Canada had been resting on his ass and directing him to sit in a nearby chair, waiting until Canada was seated before lowering himself into his lap.

Canada bit his lip to keep himself from gasping, squeezed his eyes shut as England shifted his weight slightly so that he was straddling Canada more comfortably. He could remember, as a child, sitting in England’s lap while England read him stories from picture books. The role reversal felt almost dirty. More than that, it felt *sexy*.

England wasn’t as heavy as Canada thought he would be. He was smaller, too. Had he always been this small?

That’s not it, Canada told himself. You got taller.

He shouldn’t have found it as arousing as he did, but he couldn’t help himself. He moved his hands to England’s thighs, lifting him up a little experimentally. It was so easy. He was so light.

Canada didn’t bother containing his gasp this time when England settled himself back into his lap and squirmed. His hands tightened on England’s thighs as he jerked his hips. England bared his throat with a short, stuttering sigh. Canada watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, leaned forward and sucked on it. His mouth sought out other spots, leaving faint red marks behind wherever he paused long enough. The sight of them excited him, made him want to leave more of them on other parts of England’s body, but, frustratingly, they were both still fully clothed.

England appeared to have reached the same realisation, because he lifted himself out of Canada’s lap. Canada was about to protest until England slid down between his legs and unzipped his fly. He motioned for Canada to lift his hips, dragging his pants past his thighs and fixing his gaze on the bulge in his shorts.

His eyes flickered up to meet Canada’s, dark and smouldering, and Canada nearly groaned at the intensity of them. England’s tongue peeked out just long enough to moisten his lips before bending his head and licking the outline of Canada’s cock through the thin material of his boxers. This time Canada did groan, and loudly. It was his turn to squirm now as England lifted the band of his boxers and let his dick slip free. It fit snugly into England’s right hand when he curled his fingers around it, twitched when he bent his head again to kiss the tip.

Canada’s breath hitched when England began taking his cock into his mouth, eyes closed in concentration, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Canada whined greedily, eager to take whatever England was willing to give, fisting his hands in England’s hair, his voice pleading and ragged as he panted, “More, more, more.”

This, Canada decided, was easily the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t think he would ever forget how England looked on his knees. He didn’t think he would ever forget how England’s lips felt wrapped hot and wet around his cock. It took a while for Canada to come back to himself once it was over, too dazed and blissful for anything else. Then he noticed the way England was looking at him, all soft smiles and affection. Canada didn’t think he would ever forget this either, overwhelmed as he was by the sudden urge to please England, to do something that would be as amazing for him as what he’d just experienced.

Canada reached out, about to call England’s name when the door was flung open and America strode inside.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” he said. “I got held up. How long have you been...?” He trailed off, eyes widening. Then he found his voice once more. “What’s going on here?”

England stared at him incredulously. “America? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? And what are you doing with Canada?”

“Canada?” England’s face went white, as he turned to the person in question. “You’re Canada?”

Canada cleared his throat uneasily. “Er, yes?”

It was all very awkward and embarrassing. In retrospect, Canada supposed he should have known things would turn out like this. He should have remembered England’s inability to tell him and America apart and assumed it was another case of mistaken identity right from the start.

“Oh,” England said weakly. “Oh, my.”

America rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you wanted a threesome, you could have just asked.”

 

End.


End file.
